working pretty steady ever since."

She gazed sadly away across the fields until her eyes came to
rest on a fence bright-splashed with poppies at its base. Billy,
who from his supine position had been looking up at her, studying
and pleasuring in the pointed oval of her woman's face, reached
his hand out slowly as he murmured:

"You poor little kid."

His hand closed sympathetically on her bare forearm, and as she
looked down to greet his eyes she saw in them surprise and
delight.

"Say, ain't your skin cool though," he said. "Now me, I'm always
warm. Feel my hand."

It was warmly moist, and she noted microscopic beads of sweat on
his forehead and clean-shaven upper lip.

"My, but you are sweaty."

She bent to him and with her handkerchief dabbed his lip and
forehead dry, then dried his palms.

"I breathe through my skin, I guess," he explained. "The wise
guys in the trainin' camps and gyms say it's a good sign for
health. But somehow I'm sweatin' more than usual now. Funny,
ain't it?"